


Love Is Diabetes

by Shaleschnueffler



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angry Sam Winchester, Arguing, Awkwardness, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Based on a Dream, Boys In Love, Cake, Childish Gabriel (Supernatural), Childishness, College, Doubt, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gabriel is a Novak (Supernatural), Gabriel thinks he's smart af, Idiots in Love, Kinda, Law Student Sam Winchester, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Gabriel, Pick-Up Lines, Roommates, Sam Winchester is Loved, Sam Winchester is Not Amused, Secret Messages, Stressed Sam Winchester, Students, Uncomfortable Sam Winchester, gabriel is an idiot, i love them, not really secret actually, spoiler he's not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 04:24:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17635991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaleschnueffler/pseuds/Shaleschnueffler
Summary: Gabriel has a thing for his roommate. His roommate has a thing for him. Gabriel, being Gabriel, decides to take action. Things don't exactly go as planned.





	Love Is Diabetes

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing something that takes place in an AU, and I really tried my best.  
> Also, this is based on a dream, kinda? Except my dream was way more weird and crappy and fckd-up so yeah.
> 
> Enjoy~

It was Monday morning.  
  
It was Monday morning and Gabriel was carefully sneaking past the kitchen, over to Sam's jacket, to quietly rummage around in its pockets until he felt the purse's leather brushing against his fingers. With a satisfied grin, he pulled it out, turned it in his hands, and snapped it open, quickly weighing his options before he stuck the small written note between Sam's ID and credit cards.  
  
_"You're so hot, I might have to sue you for attempted arson"_  
  
Smugly nodding to himself, he let the purse slip back into the pocket and went to join Sam in the kitchen.  
  
He'd been planting small messages for his roomie to discover for the past three days but until now, he hadn't gotten a reaction from his friend. Gabriel wasn't sure if Sam had simply overlooked them in his rush - he was extremely busy and stressed after all, with some exams coming up rather soon -, or decided to ignore them. What he was, in fact, sure of, though, was that he wasn't going to give up anytime soon.  
  
And so he grabbed two slices of toast that Sam had courteously prepared for him while he started to brew coffee for the two of them. Back when they'd moved in together, Sam had done most of the stuff in the apartment, with Gabriel leaning back and enjoying the practical service but once he'd started to complain about Sam's non-existent cooking skills - who hadn't needed long to grow tired of Gabriel's admittedly callous suggestions for improvement -, it had become his job to prepare dinner and, occasionally, lunch instead, while breakfast still consisted of mainly slightly-burnt toast and a fried egg now and then. He was way better at the whole coffee brewing and cooking thing than his friend was, so it was obvious that they both benefited from it.  
  
Gabriel handed Sam his cup before he slumped down on the more or less comfortable chair across to dig into his breakfast.  
  
It was fifteen minutes later when the taller man glanced up at the clock above the counter and Gabriel could downright see the panic that flashed over Sam's face as he got up and, softly swearing to himself, hurried to the bathroom for what the shorter man presumed was going to be a quick shower. Gabriel, now left alone with his chocolate-coated toast and cup of generously sugared coffee - his first Monday lecture started way later than Sam's so he always had more time to spend on breakfast and his morning routine than his friend -, quickly swallowed his last bite before he got up to grab a pen, a small piece of paper, and a thermos from their shelf.  
  
_"Just FYI, this probably isn't as hot as you"_ , he scribbled down and began to shuffle through some of their drawers, looking for some kind of tape to attach the subtle - bright pink - note to the cup. He'd never even once taken one of these things with him in his whole _life_ as he mostly bought food and drinks whenever he felt like it, but Sam was in a rush and probably wouldn't have time to stop by his favorite coffee shop anymore. And so he filled the thing with steaming hot coffee, adding the amount of sugar that he knew his friend preferred, placed it next to Sam's keys so he wouldn't miss it, and retreated to his own room.  
  
Laying on his bed with his eyes set on the white ceiling, he listened to his roommate's movements in their apartment, already so familiar with every single step of Sam's morning routine that he could match almost every sound that reached his ears to one of his friend's signature motions.  
  
Out of the shower, fixing his hair, occasional shaving, to his own room, rummaging through his closet only to still put on the clothes on top of the pile after all, to the hallway to get his jacket where he noticed he'd forgotten his phone, back to his room, back to the hallway, putting on his shoes and coat, grabbing his keys, getting his bag, shouting "See you!" ten times louder than necessary.  
  
Except this time, he stood still in the hallway a little longer than usual. Gabriel considered his idea a success already.  
  
Sam left with a rushed, half-hearted goodbye, and his hurried steps resonated back from the walls as the door fell shut behind him. Gabriel stayed in bed for another hour, generously procrastinating all the things he still had to get done for college, and instead thinking about more options to make the younger man aware of the massive crush he had on him without being too straight forward.  
  
Okay, _maybe_ it had become more than just a crush in the past few months of pining, implying, and despairing. But then again, Gabriel wasn't exactly one to juggle with words - he was one to act. Therefore, he hadn't really paid all the _crush_ , _in love_ , _like_ , and _love_ formalities a lot of attention, because what mattered wasn't the _term_ , or the different _stages_ of affection, but the fact that he _wanted Sam_. And so he'd sat down to observe and plot instead of overthinking the whole matter.  
  
And then, two weeks ago, he'd finally decided that yes, he could be sure now. And that he was. Sure that Sam had a big-ass thing for him as well. But hell, he wouldn't be Gabriel Novak if he took the first step just like that, right? And so he'd decided to let Sam make the first move. Or to _make_ him, therefore, as the older man was positive that his friend just needed a gentle push in the right direction to pull himself together and confront Gabriel.  
  
And leaving notes with compliments and weird pick-up lines for his friend to discover was definitely _not_ equal to making the first move like Balthazar had wrongly informed him. Nope. His brother had just been a dick. As always.  
  
Sighing, Gabriel got up from his bed and slumped down on his desk chair instead, motivated to write some more messages.  
  
The next note ended up between Sam's five million different hair products. Another one in the book Sam was currently reading. The third message was carefully planted in the sleeve of the taller man's favorite shirt. Note number four was placed and ready to be found five minutes later.  
  
He took a shower, changed, grabbed his bag and sprinted down the stairs, already two minutes late for his lecture.  
  
_  
  
Once he'd managed to stay awake during most of his lectures - and once he'd worked his few hours at the nearby coffee shop; a part-time job that was actually quite enjoyable, seeing as he loved pastries and coffee -, Gabriel hurried home through the slight drizzle, the hood of his jacket pulled over his head and his hands shoved into his pockets in order to shield himself from the rain.  
  
The apartment was oddly silent when he unlocked the door and stepped inside. Normally, he'd find Sam studying or doing whatever in their living room, or at least hear sounds from his room, whether it be the loud voices of some exaggerating actors on TV, his own quick steps because he tended to pace when he was lost in thought, or him talking to someone on the phone or simply to himself because he remembered stuff better this way. But there was nothing.  
  
Gabriel shrugged, blaming the silence on the upcoming exams - he wasn't sure but from what he knew, Sam had taken one today, so maybe the taller man was simply sulking because of some stupid mistakes he'd made since he was an actual perfectionist sometimes - and moved to the kitchen to make dinner for the two of them. Searching through their cabinets, he noticed that they didn't exactly have a lot of food left, and made a mental note to inform Sam about this issue while he grabbed a bag of noodles and ripped it open.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, the pasta was ready to be drained, and as he filled his own plate with a pile of noodles and sauce that Sam would presumably call _"way too much for your size"_ , he called out for his friend, letting him know that dinner was ready.  
  
He flopped down on the couch, turned on the TV and leaned back, shoving a fork of pasta into his mouth, paying no attention to his whatever was going on around him.  
  
Only a few hours later, when he got up to put his plate down in the kitchen and go to sleep, did he notice that Sam had left his food untouched.  
  
  
__  
  
  
Tuesday was the older man's free day; but he got up in time with Sam anyway - or at least early enough to greet him in the morning -, out of pure solidarity. And so he woke to the annoying chorus of Asia's Heat Of The Moment blasting from his phone, rolled over to turn off the alarm and sat up, yawning and stretching. Still half asleep he padded over to the door, the parquet uncomfortably cold beneath his bare feet but he couldn't really get himself to care about anything but the need for coffee that he felt right now.  
  
\- "Morning", he mumbled by force of habit as he stepped into the kitchen but a glance at the unoccupied table made him quirk up an eyebrow in confusion. Deciding to wait with trying to figure out what Sam was currently up to until he'd at least had his first morning coffee, he shrugged and popped some bread into the toaster.  
  
It was five minutes later when he finally felt energized and awake enough to look for his friend. If Sam was sick and in bed now, and he'd gotten up to no purpose...- he was so gonna slaughter the kid.  
  
All the more surprised was he when his roomie wordlessly entered the kitchen, looking tired, but at least showered, dressed and ready to go. Gabriel frowned when Sam passed him without even an acknowledging glance and reached out to grab one of the fresh slices of toast.  
  
\- "Why the long face, Sammich?", he asked curiously, taking a long sip of his second coffee. He was sure that if he'd known that Sam's response was going to consist of a tired glare and a low huff - that definitely wasn't hot, nope, _not at all_ -, he wouldn't have asked in the first place.  
  
His friend walked out the door without a word, and Gabriel figured he definitely needed a new plan. Since more notes were, obviously, no option, he'd have to go for something more direct. Something that showed Sam that he was being serious with him. Something nice. Something empathetic. Because honestly, his friend deserved it.  
  
And so he dumped his coffee down the sink, and got to work to get the moose back on its hooves - and maybe, eventually, into his bed.  
  
_  
  
It was hours later when he'd finally finished and positioned his masterpiece. The procedure had gone from _fun_ to _pain in the ass_ within minutes but he was sure that it was gonna be worth it - because Sam was gonna _love_ it.  
  
Content with his work, and smugly grinning to himself, Gabriel flopped down on the couch and switched on the TV to browse Netflix until Sam returned; the effortfully decorated cake placed on his friend's bed, on the nicest silver plate he'd been able to find; positioned so that one could both easily see and read the bright, ornate lettering right upon opening the door.  
  
_"I'm here if you need to talk about something. Anything."_  
  
_  
  
When the jingling sound of keys rang out, muffled by the door and the empty space between them but still loud enough for Gabriel to hear - sometimes he didn't know if he should love or despise the extremely thin walls in their apartment -, he started to suddenly feel insanely unconfident about his plan. It had seemed like a good idea earlier but now that Sam was about to discover his gift, he couldn't help but feel stupid. Shaking his head to dismiss these thoughts, he curled up on the armchair and closed his eyes. It was too late to flee to his room. So he would just pretend to be asleep, ignore any comments Sam might or might not make, hope that he would be happy about the damn cake and that he would forget about this whole thing _real soon_ , ideally _before_ Gabriel had to speak to him again.  
  
Because, frankly - horrible pick-up lines, compliments, and comments were totally his thing. Hell, before he'd developed this annoying crush-love-thing for his roommate, he'd hit on practically _everyone_ simply because he _really_ enjoyed making people all flustered and awkward with basically a snap of his fingers. And the whole taking-them-home part that a few of his target persons had gotten to experience hadn't been so bad either, actually. But a cake? A _self-made cake_ with a _message_ written in the _most beautiful writing_ he'd _managed_? Totally not his style. Way too sappy. And yet, here he was, silently waiting for Sam's, hopefully happy, reaction -- that he got only a few seconds later.  
  
\- "Gabe?"  
  
Okay, so maybe, just _maybe_ , Gabriel had expected more _Wow, thank you!_ and _Gabe, I love you!_ , and less _Get your ass over here_ and _I am going to kill you slowly_ in Sam's voice. Watching the hallway out of the corner of his eye, the older man kept his mouth shut, hoping that his friend wasn't going to dwell on thi--  
  
\- "Gabriel!"  
  
He actually flinched at the impatient, strained tune in Sam's voice. Okay. So he _was_ going to dwell on this. Good to know.  
  
Hesitantly, he opened his eyes fully when he heard steady steps coming closer.  
  
Right. So his friend was _really_ pissed off for some unknown reason. And apparently, his supposedly-friendly gesture had made it all even _worse_ , although so far, he still failed to understand why, or how, or _anything_.  
  
Carefully, he shifted around so that he could speak freely, and raised his eyes. Sam was stood right next to him, towering above him with a look on his face that-- wasn't as furious as Gabriel would have expected. He looked a little mad, yes, but the older man had _definitely_ witnessed worse. Way worse. Sam just looked...tired. Exhausted. Done.  
  
\- "Yeah?", he gave back, uncurling and sitting up straight to at least _seem_ like he was taking this conversation seriously. Gabriel wasn't exactly keen on getting into a fight with his best friend slash roommate after all; and provoking Sam was more of a step backward and off a cliff than into the right direction for that matter.  
  
\- "What's with the cake?"  
  
\- "What cake?" Deny, always deny.  
  
Sam rubbed a hand over his face and heaved a sigh, trying to calm himself down before speaking up again.  
  
\- "Dude, I know you put it there. Just tell me why."  
  
\- "I don't know what you're talking about, Sammich"  
  
\- "Who else could've put a cake on my bed?!"  
  
\- "Santa?"  
  
\- "It's April!"  
  
\- "Drunk Santa?"  
  
\- "I'm serious, Gabe" The look on Sam's face was nothing but worn out and weary now, and only then did Gabriel notice his messed-up hair and the dark circles around the tall man's eyes. "What the hell?"  
  
Gabriel shifted again, averting his gaze.  
  
\- "It means what it says, I don't know what you wanna hear from me", he huffed dismissively, willing to play along with Sam's idiotic mood swings. Because he wasn't going to _apologize_ for making a damn _cake_ and basically _offering up his shoulder_ for his friend to _cry_ on, oh hell no. That was where he drew the line.  
  
\- "You didn't even notice, did you?" Sam's harsh voice made him snap back to reality, and he raised his eyes to look up into his friend's face with an arched eyebrow.  
  
\- "Notice what?"  
  
\- "You...you're so _absorbed_ in your stupid pranks and games that you don't even _realize_ that you might be _hurting people_!"  
  
Taken aback, Gabriel sat up straight, trying to ask what Sam was talking about but nothing but a "What--" left his mouth before the younger man cut him off with a snarl.  
  
\- "You just keep doing it. I got my exams and you decide to make it all even harder for me. And then you just put a freaking _cake_ on my bed? Can't you just get off your high horse for _one second_ and _apologize_ like a _normal person_? Oh no, _my bad_ , I _forgot_ \- You're _Gabriel Novak_ , the _player_ that gets all the girls and boys, the one who needs to _jump_ at _everyone that walks his path_ because he's too _scared_ to admit that he's not even _half_ as confident and cool as he acts!"  
  
Gabriel didn't know what had gotten into him, but he didn't even try to resist the urge to grab Sam by the collar, push him up against the wall, and glare at him as furiously as he possibly could.  
  
\- "Okay, _you_ listen to _me_ for a second!", he growled, getting on his tiptoes and leaning forward to be on eye level with Sam, "I don't know what your fucking problem is, Winchester. Or why you're so fucking angry at me for gifting you a goddamn _cake_? But _just_ FYI, _just_ in case you haven't noticed - _You_ are the coward, not me. Because at least _I_ had the balls to _act_ on my fucking feelings for you _dumbass_ ; unlike _you_ who just decided to be a fucking _pussy_! So don't tell _me_ I ' _didn't notice_ ', 'cause _I did damn well_ ; and you're just _too caught up_ in your idiotic _jealousy_ and _pessimism_ or _whatever your problem is_ , to notice! So before you call me out on being _scared_ , maybe you should grow some balls first!"  
  
Gabriel watched with satisfaction how Sam's eyes widened in shock at the words, his six foot four frame suddenly seeming small and vulnerable. Sighing heavily, he pulled back and stomped off to his room, growling a low, uncompassionate "Feel free to talk to me when you got your shit together for once", leaving a dumbfounded and slightly swamped Sam alone in the living room.  
  
  
__  
  
  
  
It took Sam three days to man up. Three damn days of sitting in awkward silence at the breakfast table, three days of passing each other in the hallway, three days of uncomfortable encounters at the coffee shop Gabriel worked at, three days of more or less subtle eye-rolls, sighs, and headshakes.  
  
Gabriel had been close to speaking up for the sole purpose of filling the uncomfortable silence multiple times but he'd always decided against it in the last moment - he had every right to be mad, after all. There was no need for him to apologize or wordlessly forgive his friend, not before Sam made the famous first move, acknowledged his gift, and thanked him for his efforts. That was the least he could do after his sudden - unjustified - outburst last Tuesday. So Gabriel wasn't going to give in. Hell no.  
  
It was Friday now, Friday afternoon to be exact, and Gabriel had no clue where Sam had run off to. The younger man had been gone when he'd woken up at ten -- but it wasn't like he actually cared. Hell, of course not. He enjoyed his roommate's absence, quite a lot. It was just that the sound of Sam's clacking keyboard wasn't there. Or his loud pacing, or his yelling at the computer, or his quiet humming, or- Oh, _for fuck's sake_ ; he was _gone_ , he was _so gone_.  
  
And Gabriel definitely _didn_ ' _t_ spend the few hours until Sam returned - perfectly on time for dinner - imagining different ways and scenarios this small fight could possibly end up in; or thinking about how this stupid argument would affect their relationship if both of them decided not to give in; or contemplating giving a shit about his pride and just apologizing; nope. Definitely not. Because he _wasn't going to give in_.  
  
So when they were sitting across each other at the dinner table, silently munching on their food - still not talking, but at least they'd gone back to their normal daily routine after having attempted to avoid each other as good as possible throughout the past days -  Gabriel surely hadn't expected his friend to suddenly speak up after motionlessly staring down at his plate for a whole minute.  
  
\- "Gabe, listen, I'm...-"  
  
Before Sam could finish what he'd been about to say, Gabriel raised his voice, sternly speaking past a mouthful of mashed potatoes, sure that his probably completely idiotic looks betrayed his serious voice.  
  
\- "No. Don't give me that _you're sorry_ talk, Sam. Just skip to the good parts and get on with it, will you? I'm no 14-year-old girl; I'm over it, alright?"  
  
\- "Right...", Sam breathed, slightly taken aback, before he took a deep breath, presumably trying to reorganize his thoughts. "Look, back there, I-... I overreacted. I was... I was stressed, okay? I thought you were just...messing with me. Doing your... _thing_ with the flirting and, y'know,..." Gesturing vaguely, he averted his eyes while Gabriel simply dug into his food again, a single eyebrow raised in confused suspicion. "And then there were the exams, and I just _had_ to pass that one, and you kept... Bugging, and talking, and leaving messages, and I..." Sam shrugged, and Gabriel almost, _almost_ , started to feel bad for his friend - he _would have_ if it hadn't been for the small, persistent pang of anger he could still feel in his chest that just _wouldn't disappear_ , "I guess I kept telling myself you were just being a selfish, stupid dick...turns out I was wrong. Again."  
  
\- "And you needed three days to realize that? Wow, Sammich, you're even slower than I thought you were", he responded, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back with a smug grin on his chapped lips, enjoying the way Sam gave a shaky laugh at his words, eyes still set on his own intertwined hands.  
  
\- "I guess", he sighed, pausing shortly, probably waiting for Gabriel to say something, but when the older man made no move to respond in any way at all, and an awkward, heavy silence settled down around them, Sam cleared his throat before he took the lead again. "So you...forgive me then?"  
  
Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him, a content smirk flashing over his face.  
  
\- "'Course. The hell were you expecting?"  
  
The taller man breathed a huffed laugh - he appeared to like doing that, as Gabriel couldn't help but notice - and shrugged slightly. "I don't know, a punch to the face?"  
  
\- "Eh. Maybe next time, Sambrador."  
  
Sam shook his head with another soft laugh, awkwardly rubbing his hands together as they were, once again, embraced by silence that was, once again, broken by the Winchester himself.  
  
\- "So um....now what? We gonna sit here and talk about our feelings or-"  
  
\- "I was thinking we could start by making out on the couch."  
  
Sam huffed softly at that, staring at his own hands. "Right, okay, yeah." He laughed as he nodded with a small grin, exhaling audibly. "Yeah, I...I'd love that."  
  
The smile on his face was genuine as Gabriel locked eyes with him for a second before he picked his fork back up and speared a piece of meat.  
  
\- "Just lemme finish this first."  
  
To Sam's subtle eye-roll, he simply responded with a serious "Priorities, Sammy"; chin jutted forward, and mouth full of food; and he _really_ didn't know why his friend suddenly broke down laughing; but it all, everything, seemed so surreal, so _unreal_ , that he couldn't help but join in.  
  
And when they fell down on the couch, lips meeting, hands roaming; he couldn't imagine a single place he'd rather be at this very moment. Because that was when he realized, after all these months, that he wasn't _in love_. That he wasn't _into_ someone, or had a _thing_. That he didn't only _like_ , or _adore_ , or _admire_ , or _cherish_.  
  
Because that was when he realized, that he _loved_ ; and _was loved_.  
  
And it was the best feeling in the whole fucking world.


End file.
